Pity Party
by Deathofme
Summary: It seems all the broken and lonely people gravitate together. Longer summary inside, please RR! COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N House meets a kindred spirit, ornery, bitter and world weary. Wonderful chaos ensues, only problem being he's actually beginning to like having a person around and she's only got a month. Not as fluffy as sounds. But should be a helluva lotta fun!

I've only just started watching House and LOVE it! If I screw anything up, help me out okay? I LIVE for your feedback, and I hope you like this fic. (I'm also terrible with the medical jargon, forgive me) This chap's bit longer than usual because the prologue's snuck in. :)

**PROLOGUE**

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"Wilson I'm afraid you're losing your touch if you can't tell straight off this poor sucker's dead. About a month I'm thinking."

House handed Dr. Wilson back his case file and was about to limp off when the good doctor thrust the file back into his hands again. He had a desperate look about his face and pleaded with his eyes.

"House, just look one more time, okay?"

House didn't and continued to stare right back.

"No. It's quite clear just from the MRI that she's got a tumor in her brain the size of a lemon that we can't extract without killing her off right and it's in such a bitchy position that once it grows more it'll completely smother the nervous sensors in her brain and she will die. I'd give her two weeks. A month if she's a fighter."

"But you always find a way. Always, House."

"No, no good doctor, that is only because I deal in diagnostics where every poor bastard that walks through my doors is some exotic case and I can just figure out which drugs to pop 'em with, that you could never think of. It's the same methods any competent, and I do say _competent_, doctor could perform in this hospital. She's nothing special, the only interesting thing is the tumor's benign and hasn't really affected her in any other way, a lot of lucky misses actually, the chemo's the main thing making her sick apart from the ticking time bomb her brain's turned into. You already know what to do with this one, tell her she's dying."

He thrust the case file back into Wilson's hands again.

"Keep her in your ward, give her enough meds to keep her happy, feed her, clean her, just like a hotel service, but better. It's the only benefit most patients get out of the hospital system anyway, they don't have to get up to pee."

"But there must be something-"

All of a sudden there was a crash coming from the elevators on the floor. House heard Dr. Wilson swear and tear down the hall to join the mass of nurses and ward staff holding down a furious woman to a stretcher bed.

"I don't want your fucking PITY PARTY!"

House's eyebrows rose. He called out to Wilson before picking himself up a cup of coffee and limping off,

"I change my mind Wilson, bump me to lead doctor on this."

**CHAPTER 1**

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Cuddy was furious. But then, when was Cuddy ever…well, _cuddly_?

"Don't think I don't know you House."

"I am being the professional you always wanted me to be. Caring, nurturing, sympathetic…my patient needs me by her side, and I will see to it she gets the best of care."

"You're turning this to an excuse so you can get off clinic duty for a month and leave your interns to struggle under what should be _your_ cases. If you want a holiday, you've certainly got the days, so just say so."

"Oh, now what holiday would it be if I couldn't look at Cameron's ass at least once a day?"

That was a touchy subject Cuddy knew not to push, despite how many times he made light and cruel mockery of it. She sighed, exasperated as House always made her.

"If you don't want this case as an excuse to get your own obscure version of a rest, then what the hell is your reasoning?"

House shrugged and pretended to light up like a little boy.

"She's cool!"

"You don't play with people's lives like that House."

House's blue eyes grew a shade darker.

"And when did you start to adopt _that_ particular philosophy?"

The hand on his cane gripped a little tighter and he made his way out of the office with the ominous click of wood against the floor. He picked up the case file off of Cuddy's desk with nonchalance oozing out of each gesture and his gravely voice was lined with anger.

"Make the arrangements, I'm not backing down."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The nurse fidgeted with the customary clipboard and struggled to find the right words to break the worst news to the patient sitting before her.

"Now this might be a little difficult for you—"

The patient snorted,

"Get on with it."

"Urm…I'm afraid there's a bit of bad news…I'm terribly sorry—"

The patient obnoxiously tapped her hand against her thigh, not able to tap her feet because she was sitting up in the standard hospital bed.

"Uh-huh."

"Things have taken a turn for the worse."

The patient screamed her agony and flung her pillow at the startled nurse.

"My GOD! Do I LOOK like a six year old to you? Could you please treat me like a grown up and quite sugarcoating every damn thing you say? Don't you think I know I've been screwed since day one? No, no don't open your fucking mouth, someone get the doctor, go on scram! You're no good for anything except getting the doctor aren't you? C'mon! Someone act like a damn professional!"

The terrified nurse ran right out of the room still being chased by the patient's colourful obscenities and the extra pillow. She stopped dead in front of House, visibly upset and pointed unnecessarily to the room.

"Patient needs you doctor,"

And then fled.

House kept in a chuckle and opened the door to the room where he saw the patient had now picked up a bedpan.

"That's not full of piss is it?"

The patient noticed it wasn't the nurse and set the pan down.

"No, I don't have to use it. Only good thing about this place, I get a tube."

House gave a knowing smile and sat down heavily in the seat beside the patient's bed. He picked up the clipboard and looked at it with disinterest.

"Kate Hathaway."

"Think Taming of the Shrew."

House continued to look at the clipboard before setting it down. He then looked back at Kate. She would have been absolutely beautiful if it didn't look like she had sliced all the smiles off her face and the deep wrinkles weren't scars a result of it. According to the clipboard she was only a year or two younger than he was, so not young, but she still looked as if she had aged prematurely. Probably had quite a shitty, stressful life.

And she wasn't looking at him expectantly with some scrap of hope or desperation. She seemed to not care what the clipboard said or already knew and didn't give chickenshit.

"You'll die in a month."

"Wow, that long."

"That what you wanted to hear?"

"Nobody wants to hear anything except the sound of their own pretty voice."

House had to try harder to keep the laugh in.

"You're not upset?"

"I'm very upset. The world needs more bitches like me."

"You take this very well, most patients would be upset or have some hysterical breakdown."

"Or start some fucked up cancer foundation, give sappy interviews on T.V. cry and talk about how much they love their families and blah, blah. I don't mind being a statistic, I think numbers are fun."

"That's quite unusual behavior."

"I'm not a saint. Feed me, give me morphine and let me go happy."

"We _will_ have to keep you at the hospital until further notice. There are some procedures we'd like to go over—"

"No."

House had warmed up to the crusty woman lying on the bed the moment he had heard her in front of the elevators. Why did the lonely and broken always gravitate together? Or amuse each other for that matter? He gave a nod for her to continue.

"Tell me my options first."

"Well, we can undergo a surgical procedure, though it may have repercussions—"

"Shut up. I used to date a forensic scientist whose hobby was entomology. Don't spew your medical jargon with me and tell it to me straight, that's what drove me insane. I expected better from a sour cripple like you."

Ooh, feisty. And the jab about his leg didn't bother him in the least either, they were on the same level. She was dying, he knew she knew, and had gotten past it. He had his leg, and had gotten past it. They both pulled the shortest straw out of the magical medical wonders hat and lost, poor bastards. Fine, fiesta. They could all sniff each other out from the crowd. It was when the perfectly healthy poked their noses in, well…

"Your only option is time. If we go with the surgery, we'll kill you. If you want to get it over with, we'll do some medical fudging and go ahead with it, on the off chance you'll survive without a substantial part of your brain, or we let you waste away. That gives you a month."

"Would it be ironic if I said, I think I'd rather die?"

House shrugged but their eyes locked and shared a smile.

"Okay, well I think I'd rather have a month of a morphine high before going, how's that sound?"

"Yeah, I would have gone for that too, knock yourself out. But you know, morphine's out of the question, but I'll dig up some other goody for you and spew some bullshit on the paperwork."

"Right, college days, rah, rah."

House laboriously got up from his seat, using his cane to support him and wincing a little. Damn thing fell asleep.

"I'll be making regular rounds, I'm the head doc on your case, and you just sit tight."

"Yeah, bring a 'goody' when you do."

House left the room and quietly shut the door behind him. He went down the hall in search of coffee. He knew he hadn't been as scathing as he usually was, in fact, he was quite tame in comparison with his ornery self on usual cases. And compared to her. Kate the shrew indeed.

But the losers in life, they can spot each other out. Especially when they know they've been drinking life's hearty cup of fuck-you their whole lives and have acquired a taste for it. House had only met one other person like him, and that was in a bar and the one hour conversation was more stimulating than he had ever had the pleasure to receive than anything else. Almost anything else.

And here was another now. But with quite spirit. Spirit like the burning whiskey he now decided he was going to look for at the back of his desk's drawer instead of coffee.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N Please R/R! There's a cameo from another fav. TV show of mine in the next chap, it'll be fun or interesting at the very least. I promise. Feedback much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Gosh, thanks for the lovely reviews. Orange-Elf...yeah, ok, you're right. Hmph. Shoulda been more subtle. The cameo's gone a little bigger, I don't think it qualifies as a crossover yet, but be prepared to see some charas from another big TV show. Don't worry, should be fun!

Please keep in mind I'm not totally up to date on what's happened on 'House', and I'm probably not going to include anything current on the TV apart from the motorcycle.

**CHAPTER 2**

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"My hair used to be red, but I decided to shave it off and beat the chemo to it. Now it looks like something ate a fox and shat its remains on my head."

House gave a teasing look to show he was considering the thought.

"Well, red hair, green eyes, you must have been quite the catch."

"Surprisingly. You men are too stupid to install a bitch radar."

They struck quite an image. House, limping along with the grace of practiced ease, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and sipping at it occasionally. Kate the shrew in her scrubs, pushing along the IV drip stand.

"Dr. House?"

Chase stared at them incredulously, accidentally bumping into them as he was on his way back to House's office to do the paperwork the scruffy doctor had so conveniently neglected.

"What are you doing?"

House took a draining gulp from the cup before thrusting it into Chase's hands.

"I'm always criticized for not connecting with my patients, and so now I'm trying to be more sensitive."

He tried to look innocent but it didn't work.

"A walk, simple as it is, can be quite therapeutic."

"I thought we were going by Cuddy's office so you could rub it into her face that you're the head doctor of my case and whatnot—"

House planted a firm hand over Kate's mouth and looked pityingly at Chase.

"I gave her meds, she's half out of her mind and has no idea what she's saying."

Kate must have licked his hand or something because he immediately let go and wiped his hand on her scrubs with a disgusted expression.

"That is a filthy habit you must work on. Quite unsanitary."

Chase rolled his eyes.

"I don't know what to say. Thanks for all the extra paperwork by the way."

"Not a problem. And make sure Cameron doesn't write on my board."

Chase gave them one last look before walking off. Kate decided she wasn't going to let him go with that expression on his face without some grief.

"Nice ass, mama's boy."

Looking appropriately scandalized Chase snapped his open jaw shut with a click before walking off to House's office with a faster pace.

"Now anyway, about the Eagles…"

"We weren't talking about the Eagles, House."

"Shut up, I'm the doctor—"

"Kate! You really shouldn't be out of your room."

It was the nurse who most regularly attended Kate and one could tell she was more than a little intimidated by seeing her fiery charge and sensing a conflict again. House decided he wouldn't let the has-been redhead vent her spleen on the poor woman. Probably put her into cardiac arrest.

"It's fine, I'm supervising her."

"Oh, well, alright then doctor."

Kate looked offended,

"Ah, and just what gives him more credibility than me?"

"I've got a degree proving I'm smarter than you, and you don't. So ha, ha."

The nurse tried to inch away when Kate noticed her moving out of the corner of her eye and gave an exclamation, startling the woman once more.

"Oh, that's right! Before you go, take this."

Kate thrust the IV drip stand into the nurse's hand and then pulled the needle out of her arm with a swift, rash movement. House didn't bother to hold in his laughter any longer, and it could have been seen as cruel or taunting but was unmistakably genuine.

The nurse ran away wordlessly with the IV drip stand and pack a split second after the first curse came out of a shellshocked Kate.

"Very smart thing to do."

"Damnit…that hurts…a lot…fuck."

"Back to the Eagles,"

"IdontwanttohearaboutyourstupideaglesfixmyarmorsomethingAAAGH!"

House frowned,

"You know how medieval it seems, screaming in a hospital because you're in _pain_?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chase looked at Foreman, and Foreman looked at Chase. He knew that they, and just about all of the hospital staff were on the same brainwave.

"My god, there's a female version of House."

It was surprising how quickly they had taken to each other, but they knew. Misery loves company. The deadbeats of the world just seemed to draw to each other. Nothing was pretentious. There was nothing to trust or distrust. And besides…

Red hair? Green eyes? That was quite a catch.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aw, it's always you isn't it Nicky?"

Nick Stokes gave an easy smile and an embarrassed laugh. Okay, so perhaps joshing around with the other young male population of the conference/convention for other police forces and CSI's wasn't the smartest thing to do after a couple of beers, but he had no idea it would result in him breaking his leg. Or the freak chance of catching pneumonia in the hospital.

"You're out how long?"

Grissom didn't seem as amused as Sara did, but his eyes were soft with affection he always held for his team members, former or no.

"A week."

Grissom frowned,

"The conference is over in a week. You were a panel speaker."

Nick was about to reply when he went into a violent coughing fit. The two other CSI's took a cautionary step back and Sara grimaced.

"I'll take over Nick's panel."

"Okay fine. You just get better, alright Nick?"

"Will do Griss,"

Was all he managed before beginning to cough again. Sara patted him on the back with a wry smile before falling into step behind Grissom on the way out.

"We'll come by again."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were standing in the elevator and the tension was so thick Sara thought she was going to suffocate. It was so pathetic, she knew that life would always be the same. Her wishing, him hiding, and it was better to forget and move on but a part of herself just wouldn't give up and die.

Lost in her maudlin thoughts Sara didn't notice the sudden commotion until the elevator doors opened to magnify the sound of the ruckus going on outside.

"I can walk fine, I don't want your fucking PITY PARTY!"

She saw Grissom's face suddenly go rigid and he jabbed the close doors button on the elevator so fast none of the hospital staff or personnel ever noticed it had opened.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks so much for the lovely reviews. Please keep coming with the feedback, it'll bring updates sooner, make me happier, and make your chappies better. And trust me, some BIG things will happen in this fic. In this chap: Kate terrorizes a poor housewife, Nick hits on Cameron and House has a special sort of 'goody'.

Disclaimer: Don't own House (or CSI, 'cuz a couple of 'em just snuck in there).

**CHAPTER 3**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"Oh doctor, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Really?"

That was definitely a first. He couldn't think of any moment in his life when anyone was glad to see him. But, this was the head nurse of the ward Kate was in so he guessed that gave her desperation some backing and legitimacy.

"What's she done now?"

It wasn't quite clear or evident just what had gone on in the room when House first entered. Sure there was a smashed water glass on the floor but that wasn't by Kate's bed. In fact, she was quite content, sitting placidly and reading a 'Time' magazine.

"You know, I really hate this mag, the articles are just a bunch of new age psycho pop babble bullshit and the editors are a bunch of pretentious hogs."

"Yes, good reading, what went on in this room?"

There was a muffled sob and the curtains for the patient beside her were angrily yanked closed. House hadn't noticed but there was an upset woman with Kate in the room and he was beginning to form an idea of just what happened.

"I don't like people staring at me."

House sighed, he knew what she was talking about but he had to be professional. Damn.

"Yes, yes, but you seem to have a talent for turning a dislike into a crying breakdown."

"Yeah, well she was pitying me. So I pitied her right back. I told her she might as well go back home and light all of her hand-drawn get well cards from her kids on fire because they probably spent five seconds on it and didn't care chickenshit at all. She can go back to her tidy little suburbian home, to her perfect little _boring_ life and pretend she doesn't wish for anything more. Pity, pity, we were just having a pity party."

Goodness. You didn't go telling the perfectly healthy people, or the ones on the receiving end of life that things could be screwed up even for them. Kate knew the game, she was just blatantly breaking the rules. Oh, what else could he expect?

"Oh can it."

Kate looked surprised. Even House was. He never pitied his patients or tried to cut them any slack, but he was sure the woman had suffered more abuse under Kate's scathing tongue than the embittered cancer patient let on. And he didn't want a hysterical woman in the room. Urgh.

"We'll get you a separate room. With a TV if you must. Watch your soaps and your daily intake of melodrama and exaggerated sex."

Kate's green eyes shone out from her pale face.

"What about something better?"

"Being?"

"Let me leave the hospital."

The woman crying in the bed beside her suddenly gave a scream of,

"Please!"

House's eyebrows rose and he gave Kate a significant look before considering what she had just said.

"We still need to monitor you. Give you treatment…"

"Treatment ie stuffing me full of painkillers and monitoring ie waiting for me to die and quit taking up your precious budget."

"Bingo."

"Yeah, but I want to go home. Can't you do one of those things where the patient can be monitored at home?"

"You'd need a house doctor making regular calls."

"Yeah, _doctor House_…"

"If you think I'm going to play nurse to you, you have another thing coming. And don't take my name in vain, it's too precious."

"And if you think I'm going to let a sour bastard like you get in the way of me being able to stay at home and drug myself on pharmaceutical prescriptions, you've got another thing coming. Maybe I'll sweet talk that blonde doctor, the cute, young one…"

House's coffee had turned cold and his face twisted into a grimace. He chucked it into the garbage can beside her bed and the grimace hadn't left his face.

"I don't think I want to know what your meaning is by 'sweet talking'."

"I can be quite convincing."

House nodded, and hefted himself on his cane to begin walking again.

"Ah, and _that_ is another thing entirely."

He leaned over and yanked the curtains to the other woman's bed away and poked his nose in to see a bedraggled woman. Puffy, red eyes, used up Kleenexes and a furious expression.

"You didn't hear any of that, right?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nick was glad to see the doctor come into his room. She was pretty, and always smiled when he chatted her up. She seemed like a very sweet person and always took the time to talk to him when she made her daily rounds and checkup.

"Is it alright if I call you Allison?"

"Bored with Cameron and Stokes?"

"You could say that."

She gave a wry smile and went through the routine checkup. He was improving and they would have him out by the week. He just needed time to get recover enough from the pneumonia that they could be sure he wouldn't lapse into a more severe case of it.

"Say 'ah'."

"Ooaytoouoallaysoozpahsiklesix?"

"Say that again?"

"Why do you always use popsicle sticks?"

She gave him a stern look.

"They're tongue depressors."

"Whatever you say doc."

She gave him his antibiotics and he dutifully downed them with the offered glass of water. He smacked his lips as if he had just enjoyed a fine meal.

"It tastes disgusting."

Cameron laughed and forever scribbling away at her clipboard she walked out of the room.

"Same time tomorrow, right Allison?"

"Right-o, cowboy."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Knock, knock."

"You're not allowed in if you don't have a goody."

Kate rolled up the Time magazine and chucked it into the waste basket beside where House was standing. He clucked his tongue in disapproval and fished it out of the basket, replacing it on her bedside table.

"That costs money. And I'm learning how to fold origami chickens with the editorial."

"Luck so far?"

"A hybrid of a rabid goose and whooping crane."

Kate crossed her arms and stared at him long and hard. His blue eyes only stared innocently back and her green ones narrowed.

"Okay I'll bite, what is it this time?"

"Put your clothes on, they'll be in the closet over there. I've got a treat for you."

"Do you know just how rude what you said could sound?"

House pointed with his cane at the small closet in a lonely corner of the room where they had put her personal effects.

"Would you ask a cripple to get up and walk several torturous feet to lug back your own possessions?"

"Would you ask a dying person to have to wear pants again?"

But Kate let House help her out of the IV needles and the tubing and clambered out of bed. She had managed to fight with the nurses and other doctors to get rid of most of the tubing, but they told her if she was healthy enough to go without the IV drip or VSA monitor she would have to use the bedpan.

"You wouldn't be lecherous and look at me as I changed, would you?"

"Oh but of course not, I'm a doctor and I see naked people just about everyday but I'm going to make that exception just for you."

House did look away though, at the editorial in the Time magazine and trying to figure out how best to rip it into a perfect square without making jagged edges. It was the damned jagged edges, he could have used scissors of course, but that was kind of cheap.

"Yeah, what's this treat?"

House smiled and hefted himself up. Taking Kate by the arm he limped down the hallway and she rubbed at the tube scarring on her arms. Still sore.

"It's a lovely day outside, the sun is shining and it's a perfect day for a walk."

"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth."

He ignored that.

"Or a ride."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"House you're fucking crazy!"

But House pretended he couldn't hear her and mockingly began to sing to the Eagles tune currently playing on his iPod as he sped down the highway at a reckless speed and slipped in and between the cars on his motorcycle.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thanks all for reading, we've hit over 600 hits! Please review though, I would love to hear your feedback. I'm glad you guys like Kate. Oh and Orange Elf...you leave me _confuzzled_. Are you saying its out or in character for me to have House buy the motorcycle? And I hate FF formatting. Gr.

Anywho, in this chap House finds out he has to play Nurse, Sara finds herself connecting with Cameron, and Kate watching over them all.

Disclaimer: (cuz I didn't put one in before...I think...bad at thinking) I don't own CSI or House. If I did, this would be on air.

**CHAPTER 4**

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"An annual marathon for different police forces across the state? This is where you broke your leg?"

"No, no,the marathon was different. We were doing really well until we found the dead guy in a side ditch a bit off the road…the convention here is more of a conference for forensic experts and police investigators. It's not that old, I think this is the third anniversary."

"Okay, and say again just what you were doing that got your leg broken?"

"Drunk. Just plain silly drunk. I met up with some other younger guys at the convention and we were having a bit too much fun. They were sharing drinking songs and it was my turn up on the fold up table they found. I didn't know any, so I tried a square dance routine instead, and the fold up table…"

"…folded, I see."

Cameron laughed and Nick smiled his easy-going smile. She really was quite pretty when she laughed and he laid a hand over hers. She didn't seem to notice and looked at her watch to discover she had to run.

"You think after the end of the week, I might stick around and buy you a drink? Maybe give you a ring from Vegas?"

He saw Cameron's smile shift the teensiest bit and he knew what it meant and he sighed. He'd seen it before.

"Or is there someone else?"

Cameron was silent for a moment, trying her best to hide the struggle within herself. Nick could sense something was up and just waved her out of the room with the friendly, understanding smile of his.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kate was complaining again that he was out of his mind and to obey at least one traffic sign before he got them both killed. He had taken her for rides on his motorcycle a couple more times and despite the sometimes frightened babble she kept up, he knew it did her good. The adrenaline rush would leave her looking a little brighter and she seemed to enjoy looking at the scenery zooming by.

His motorcycle and riding it was a very private thing for House, but he felt like it was something to share with Kate. If any of the deadbeats had something going for them, why not share a little sunshine? It didn't seem like a violation and that sensation was so new and refreshing House reveled in it. Nothing pretentious, nothing to trust and nothing to distrust.

House took off his helmet and placed it into his knapsack. Kate was still a little shaky on her feet, but was making half-hearted complaints at best.

"Oh you liked it."

"Especially when you hit a speed two times over what the limit was."

The hospital doors opened and a small frown line etched between House's brow.

"Why is Cuddy looking right at me and why is she walking over oh so quickly?"

"Oh that…"

House looked sharply at her,

"What do you mean, 'oh that'?"

"I've got to get back to my room, have fun."

And in a flash Kate was gone and House was slowly starting to get scared. Why was Cuddy smiling and why did she look that triumphant? And yes, she was staring right at him, dear lord, think fast rabbit, think fast…

"House, just who I wanted to see!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm WHAT!"

"You should be thankful. I'm allowing you such free leave to be able to take _care_ and _nurture_ and _pay more special_ _attention_ to your patients as you so wished to."

"And what if I refuse?"

His tone had turned deadly and he stared at Cuddy with two ice chips, looking his most intimidating. But Cuddy wasn't fazed.

"Then you can kiss your ass to being head doctor on her case and find yourself with two weeks of clinic duty."

House was still staring daggers for a moment longer before uttering a small, quiet "Damn". She had got him there.

He hated clinic duty far more than making house calls.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sara found she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dreadful scene playing out before her, sitting in the visitor's chair beside Nicky's bed as he was eating lunch. She was caught in her own morbid fascination and she just hated that.

She could see it plain as day, and she knew that most would be oblivious. Why she had the particular insight was what disturbed her most. Dr. Cameron, pretty, young, and Dr. House, scruffy and old. The tension in their argument as taut as a stretched rubber band about to snap.

How cruel he was, playing at the semantics and belittling everything she said. She was trying hard to keep up her own side of the argument, but was failing. And she knew it, had resigned to it. She avoided his gaze, and it seemed his shockingly blue eyes would gain intensity by that.

Oh, he was a clever devil. Hiding behind hate and spite and scathing words and the clear message of un-want. So much more tactful than--

Well, Sara didn't want to go there. Cameron was walking away now, shaking her head as if she wondered why she even bothered (and yet she knew) and House watching her with a satisfied (yet bitter) smile.

"Oh that's doctor Cameron. Allison. She's real nice, I've been chatting her up but I think she's already got a boyfriend or someone she's interested in. Probably that blonde guy."

Sara looked back at Nick who was talking around a mouthful of sandwich. Why men thought they could still sound intelligent or meaningful with peanut butter in their mouths was beyond her.

"Oh I don't think it's 'the blonde guy'."

Because the man doctor Cameron was avoiding definitely didn't have blonde hair.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Sara, been visiting Nick?"

"Yeah, just talked with him as he ate his lunch."

"How's he holding up?"

"Oh Nicky's doing fine."

"That's good."

The pair had run out of things to say to each other.

"Do you want some coffee Sara?"

"Sure."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kate decided Sara was pretty. Poor girl didn't let it show very well though. Probably overworked herself, probably tried too hard. Pity. Pity, pity, join the party. She laughed silently to herself, oh the old coffee guise.

The two characters didn't realize they had an audience observing them from between the slits of the Venetian blinds in doctor House's office. It was the only place Kate could sip from House's 'secret' stash of Jack Daniels, and she had hit it lucky getting a drink and a show.

She decided then and there that she liked this Sara. And that she felt truly sorry for her indeed.

"I hope you're enjoying that Miss Hathaway."

Oh that ominous voice, the tall figure casting an even more intimidating shadow over her. Apparently the doctor had just been given word that he was now a nurse. Oh goody.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N Please click that sad, lonely little button in the corner, right there. It needs love. Really.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Yay it's October, the spooky month! To celebrate, I give you this update. Thanks for all my reviewers, please keep leaving reviews, they're lovely and they inspire me and bring you chappies oh so quickly and all the nicely stuff rolled into one. Smiles. After this chapter we're going to start getting closer to the climax of the story, I promise it will be muchly fnu. Yes, fnu.

In this chap House has to play nurse, Kate drags him to a park, and "palm reading" ensues.

**

* * *

****CHAPER 5**

"Home sweet home."

"You're really enjoying this aren't you?"

"Oh you know you like it."

"No, actually, I despise it."

"If I get the great doctor House as my own personal maid I might as well make the best of it, don't you think?"

House only growled as he continued to drive her to her home. It turned out to be a small house (ha, ha, the irony) about ten minutes away from the hospital. As they walked up the front steps he made sure the click of his cane was sharper than usual.

"You walk next time."

"And leave you with a guilty conscience and death on your hands as I collapse under the strain and have an aneurism?"

"Yes, exactly."

She opened the door to display a cosy, slightly messy interior that looked quite lived in. It smelled like coffee and fabric softener. Not bad.

"Nice."

He grunted as he made his way in. He didn't feel awkward about coming into her private home. They were comrades in arms and nothing was _that_ private or personal. Almost nothing.

"It could use some cleaning up."

House uttered a disgusted sigh.

"Now why do you women always find the need to say those _exact _words whenever you enter your own home?"

"I know, I'm too damn lazy to do it anyway and the implication that I will is an utter sham. I'm afraid I've seen too much television in that stinking hospital."

"And I'm afraid that's entirely your fault."

"Touché."

House made sure all the equipment or whatnot she needed was installed or readily available, that she understood the procedures, fastforwarding through a lot and throwing in its stead 'administrative crap-o-la' and ended it as quickly and painlessly as possible.

She had already stared around disinterestedly and he invited himself to sit on her couch.

"And now, alcohol."

"At noon on a Sunday?"

"What? Like it'll matter in a few weeks?"

Kate pretended to think about that,

"I'll get some shotglasses."

* * *

"…the patient's doing well, and should come by again same time next week." 

"Doing fine apart from the fact she's dying, yes, yes, leave that bit out."

Doctor Cameron tried to keep her patience and anger in check. She had gotten over what had happened, and she was doing her damned best to be professional but he just had to keep pushing buttons, didn't he? Stupid man, trying to see how far it would take her to make her explode and actually react. What he didn't know or count on was that she just might.

"I'm afraid I'd like to stay and chat but I have a patient of my own to see."

"Oh you mean Tex with the broken leg? Pretty is he? I didn't know you went for the Southern crop. You'll disappoint Chase, you know."

It was then that Cameron gave him such a look of despair and pity that Kate could just smell the tragedy reeking from the past. House's smile as well, grew a little tainted and they would have had the most amazing stare down if Cameron didn't act smart and walk off without a word.

Kate saw this all through the Venetian blinds.

* * *

"You know I only have to come by your house once a day in order to fulfill my obligation towards you. That you're actually cutting out of my precious time dragging me around like a rag doll." 

"Oh boo-fucking-hoo. You know very well Cuddy gave you this oh so special case to be able to spend more time with your patients, ie me."

"Yes, yes, but why a _park_? On a _sunny day_?"

Kate just shrugged, with an infuriating little smile on her face. The truth of the matter was she knew how ragged House was after his encounter with Cameron. If he stayed in the hospital any longer he would have just huffed around and then hide away in his office to pop Vicodin.

"Oh I know, romanticism and heavy cliché, but it should be quiet around this time of day. And we don't get enough quiet in this world because of—FREAKING TRUCKS!"

She shouted at the noisy vehicle lumbering down the road, momentarily distracted. She hated trucks with a passion and pulled her hat down further to cover her ears.

"Whatever, you're weird, and I'm going."

Kate continued to drag him down the street, unfazed and happily marched on.

"As if that's an excuse. You try and relieve yourself of your civic duty and I'll snap your cane in half."

"Now just when did you become my civic duty?"

"I know, what another piece of pretentious crap they come up with. Civic duty my frigid ass, it's just something to fluff you up and make you feel good about yourself."

"If you're going to ramble about how much the world sucks, then why on earth are we going to a park!"

* * *

But House had to admit that he was actually enjoying himself. 

Kate was right, there was no one else in the park and it was quiet. The faint hum of cars in the distance, and the rush of blood in your ears. The wind was brisk this time of year and whipped across their faces with a cold nip. The grass was cool to sit on and there was some lethargic quality to just sitting and waiting for the next gust of wind.

Kate had pulled her hat further down her head and was leaning against the tree they were sharing and had closed her eyes. House had plugged into his iPod and looked up at the sky. How maudlin he was becoming.

As he was sinking more and more deeply into his own confused thoughts he felt something poke his arm.

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

"Give me your hand."

He offered it a little nervously, unsure of what she wanted.

"Why?"

"I'm going to read your palm."

House snorted,

"Yeah. Sure. As if you believe in that crap."

Kate gave him 'the look' and flipped his hand palm side up and stared intently at it. Her pale fingertips lightly traced themselves against his own slender, rough palm.

After a moment he turned off the iPod and took the headphones out of his ears. It was almost hypnotic, watching her fingers trace over the creases of his palm, traveling up one length and finding a way down another.

House started to lose himself a little in the ticklish sensation of the fingertips and their dance across his palm. It was quite pleasant and he felt all the tension start to melt out from his body until he leaned forward in a slump. All the crap and strain just bled out of the lines in his palm and while they were still there, they didn't have a hold of him as much. It didn't matter so much.

And then her finger traced down his lifeline and stopped.

There was a moment of silence before he realized she was looking up at him with those curious green eyes.

"And?"

"Good news and bad news."

"What's the bad news?"

"I don't know how to read palms."

He felt a muscle under his eye twitch.

"And the good news?"

She gave him a cat's grin, sly and devious.

"You let me touch you for three minutes straight."

* * *

A/N I hate this FF formatting...oh, and please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Wahey folks! I am back from busily updating my CSI fics...traitor I know, and my lone Wonka fic got into a C2, party hats! This chap is a VERY special one especially updated with such fanfare for my lovely reviewers. Thank you very much, please keep coming with feedback after this chapter things will REALLY start to get into motion. Lotsa drama. Smiles.

Special thanks to Orange Elf, confuzzleness cleared up! "Good news, bad news" I stole from "Walk two moons",hated that book, loved the line.Oh, we have **Teh Smex** in this chap (which is why its so special), enjoy!

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 6**

For the first time in a very long time House blushed. And it was an awful blush only managed to be hidden a bit under his dark skin. It was warm and tingly and made the jugular vein on his neck throb and it was awful, awful.

Why had he opened up so much to this woman? Was that what happened when two lonely people got acquainted? He didn't know, he had shared his own brand of cynicism, his motorcycle, his feelings of freedom with her and had made himself vulnerable. Was that really a smart thing to do?

God, he was turning maudlin. Maud-fucking-lin. His life was starting to turn into a freaking soliloquy out of some stupid play or soap. But if he knew one thing, it was if life decided to slip an extra mickey into her unlucky brew for the unlucky few, there wasn't anything any poor bastard could do about it. He'd just have to accept that he wouldn't see Kate as just a drinking buddy anymore.

"Greg?"

Ooh. Ouch. First name basis.

"What? Let's go for coffee, my ass is getting wet."

House heaved himself up, slinging his knapsack across one shoulder and helping Kate up once he had found firm ground.

Kate could only give a wry smile.

Oh the old coffee guise.

* * *

"So you'll be out in just two days Nicky?"

"Yeah, I'll be out of this gown and back in jeans very, very soon."

"We'll be sure to come by and pick you up."

"How'd the panel go?"

"Fine. Most of your 'buddies' were there and it seems they can't tear their eyes of anything remotely female. Apart from that, fine."

Nick laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah…it sounds like them."

"Alright, we'll catch you later."

Sara threw out Nick's trash for him on the way out and had to drag Grissom away from an Arts and Entertainment magazine he had found in the room.

"And what's so interesting now?"

"Apparently they're going to put on a production of the Mikado and tour around the U.S. and stop by first in Nevada."

"The Mikado?"

"Do you listen to Gilbert and Sullivan?"

"I don't do musicals."

"Oh don't be negative. They were a famous duo, composing some of the most amazing scores for 'Iolanthe' and 'The Pirates of Penzance', which was actually quite a brilliant satire…"

"If it's not bugs or rollercoasters, it's musicals, huh?"

They shared a rare, genuine laugh over that and Sara was in a much better mood as they were exiting the hospital until Grissom suddenly stopped and veered off into another direction.

"Hey Griss, elevator's the other way."

She had to jog a bit to catch up to him and saw him stop outside of a room. He looked in through the window and disappointment and relief crossed his face simultaneously. He flagged down a nurse nearby.

"Excuse me, where is the patient for this room?"

"Miss Hathaway? Oh she was discharged a few days ago, are you visiting?"

"Miss Hathaway? Oh I'm sorry, I was looking for Nick Stokes."

"Oh that young gentleman, well he's right down that hall."

"Thank you."

Grissom made his way back to a stunned Sara and she knew she was supposed to ignore what just happened and never mention it again. It still left her confused, because Grissom definitely knew that Nicky's room was down the other hall. Miss Hathaway?

Grissom looked totally normal and acted as such and Sara was the only one with a little frown still etched between her eyes. He looked over and smiled as they were reaching the ground floor.

"Coffee?"

* * *

"This is an awful remake."

House downed another shot glass of what remaining liquor they found at Kate's home and listened a little more carefully at what was playing on the radio. He wasn't drunk (yet), but the alcohol was making him feel wonderfully warm and in an all round pleasant mood.

"Yes, utter crap."

"I think it's that girl's song, what's-her-face…"

"Christina."

"Yeah, that one. Never could tell them apart. They all look the same, singers nowadays. Blonde, tall, skinny, long legs, bubble-gum wrapper looks…"

House chuckled and leaned back further into the couch.

"…under the cutting board and they all look gorgeous, supposedly. Doesn't give a plain Jane a chance."

"You're not a plain Jane."

"What?"

Ooh, she caught him there. He should have taken the drinks a little slower. But House just grinned a little and shrugged.

"Bitch glitch."

They both had a good laugh over that and House elaborated.

"Very exotic creatures you sadly don't find as often in the world. They're either going senile or are those obnoxious little Goths who think they know so much."

"Exotic? Hmm, who knew you had a silver-tongue?"

"It's not silver, it's the alcohol."

"And we're all out."

The empty bottle was thrown and made a nice tinkle as it hit the recycling box dead on. A very nice throw indeed. And House was in such a good mood, and things were very comfortable.

"Not really."

And he leaned over and kissed Kate.

There was a beat where Kate's eyes widened and House still had a small grin etching around the corners of his mouth.

"You're drunk."

"You're probably right."

But House found he had wanted to do that the whole day. He wanted to try and soften those scarring lines of worry and stress from her face. Impossible task, poetic bullshit task, but slightly intoxicated, you let yourself go.

The distance between them closed in a relatively short time and it made House wonder how long it had been since he had touched a woman's face. Or anyone's face for that matter. How long it had been since he wanted some form of contact or other. Any sign of affection and care.

When the kisses became heated and were beginning to lead to something else, Kate broke off and led him to her room. He was growing impatient and moodily followed after.

"…making me climb a set of fucking stairs…"

* * *

It took them a bit to figure out something that worked for both of them. Kate knew it was a little embarrassing for House trying to compensate and maneuver around his useless leg and made up for it by paying it special attention. It had been sweet and they still held each other in the dark.

"If you're expecting me to talk to you, you're going to be very disappointed."

Kate smiled and tweaked his nose. He still looked scruffy and disagreeable but much softer.

"Well then turn on the radio, it's closer to you."

So with the low melodies filtering into the dead quiet of the night, the two broken souls fell asleep in a criss-cross of limbs, and everything was quite warm and pleasant.

It was such a Hollywood thing, but sometimes you just let yourself go.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** Hey folks, thanks for the reviews, PLEASE keep reviewing, it really makes my day. The story now gets more emotionally involved and we find out some key points about the past. In this chap, House and Kate squabble over pasta, and we have a House/CSI confrontation. Much fun!

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 7**

Cameron walked into the room to see Foreman and Chase talking intensely with their heads close together, their assignments and coffee cups quite abandoned.

"And what are you boys talking about?"

They both looked up a little uncomfortably and Foreman managed to speak up,

"House hasn't come in today."

That was unusual but Cameron pretended not to care.

"So?"

"House has been late, but he's never _not_ shown up."

"Maybe it's a first."

"House isn't one for firsts either."

"Well don't ask me about it!"

Cameron left the room in a huff and once she had walked far away she realized she had no idea where she was going. She had gone in to ask if any patients were referred to her, and was too embarrassed to walk back and ask. Oh, the day was not starting out well…and she was genuinely curious about House.

* * *

House was in the supermarket.

"Angel's hair? Rigatoni? Linguini? Manicotti?"

"You spew one more Italian…_thing_ that ends in 'i' and I will shove it up your nose."

Kate thrust a pack of the linguini into the basket and gave him a look.

"If you ever studied music you'd understand more about the Italian language."

"Oh but I _have_ studied music and I _can_ read it and I think the Italian terms are some of the silliest I've ever heard, all ending in their incessant 'o's. Tempo, Allegro con brio, pizzicato, largo—"

"Fermata ritardando."

Kate held up a couple cans of tomato paste. House was confused.

"What?"

"Hold these, retard!"

As they started looking at the different array of cheeses and House sniffed gingerly at the choice smelly kind, Kate suddenly stopped.

"What? Having another epiphany?"

"You studied music?"

"A little. Piano."

Kate thought a bit and then tossed the preferred cheese into the basket. She then picked up his free hand and held it up to the artificial light flickering from above. House cocked an eyebrow.

"What, don't believe me?"

"No I do, now that I see your hand. And it fits. You drunk, unholy hours of the night, smoking, playing jazz piano at some seedy nightclub…"

"Sounds like my part-time job when I was in university."

House's voice was dripping with sarcasm and he followed along gamely after his 'charge'. The morning had been quiet and comfortable and not wanting to break the wonderful languid air to the day House had stayed.

They cooked pasta together in the kitchen, bumping into each other, squabbling about proper and improper knife use, and a debate over the spices to put in the sauce. House played on Kate's electronic keyboard but despaired at it's inferiority to a real piano and gave up. They listened to the radio and watched the soaps.

House had something other than his job to go to, to be at. The feeling of lifted responsibility and the almost lethargy of the flipside of life was something profound in its own quiet way. He didn't reduce himself to babbling any of his inner thoughts out loud, that would just be _too_ sickening, but made sure he had an arm wrapped around Kate's shoulders and let her head lean into his.

"I can't stand another episode of this crap."

"Well, let's go for a ride."

Kate shuddered.

"Oh goody."

* * *

"Oh my god, slow down goddamnit, slow down!"

House felt the arms wrapped around his waist tighten in fear and suddenly he felt his stomach sink with a whoosh. He did slow down and it surprised Kate. He had never done that before, not on any ride had he complied with her pleas for him to obey at least the major traffic laws.

"Oh so now we FINALLY get our heads screwed on right?"

But Kate was worried, House was being too silent.

He was thinking that he could have crashed. At the reckless speed he was going at, he could have crashed and Kate could have gotten hurt. But it didn't really matter if Kate got hurt (apart from pain) because she was going to die soon anyway.

One month…

* * *

Cameron didn't see why she had to be the doctor to do the regulatory checkups on Kate Hathaway. Couldn't they have gotten Chase to do it? No, Chase had already suffered humiliation under her. Foreman? No, he giggled too much around her. So here she was.

The patient was doing extremely well. In fact if it weren't for the fact she had cancer, and had the pains and weakness that went with it she was perfectly fine. In fact, her condition had improved greatly. Her skin had a healthy glow, she was bright and alert…

Damnit.

Cameron knew exactly why. Everyone knew Kate and House had a good, almost impossibly easy friendship and it was doing millions for both of them. And she was mad the most because it made her feel sick when she swore she would never let it feel sick again.

"Well?"

Cameron looked up at House and handed him the standard reports.

"She's doing fine, checkup next week. You know the drill."

"In a hurry to go somewhere? Take care of Tex the cowboy?"

There wasn't the same mocking bite to his voice. Huh.

"No actually, he's discharged. I think he's getting picked up by his regulars. I have another patient that was referred to me this morning. Unlike you, I'm quite busy."

"Ouch."

House had a peculiar look on his face. It wasn't happy, it wasn't scathing or mocking or determined to hurt her. It was soft. Something Cameron had only seen flashes of in his diamond blue eyes before that made her fall in love with him.

"Not baiting me today?"

House fumbled with his pill jar and shook some painkillers into his hand.

"It's not worth it…"

He popped them into his mouth and downed them with cold coffee.

"…it's unfair to you.

And he left with his curious limp and Cameron had to stay very still to make sure tears of anger and hurt and whatever else she was feeling didn't fall. It was the sweetest, most touching thing he had ever said. The closest time he had been to caring. And yet this change…this influence all was a result of someone else. Not her.

And that hurt. A lot.

* * *

"And the diagnosis is?"

"You're fine."

"Apart from the fact that I've got less than a month."

"Yeah, that."

"Would it embarrass you if I held your hand?"

"In front of my colleagues, yes."

"Oh goody."

She held on to his hand incessantly tight and he gave her an annoyed look. She only smiled and held tighter and even begun to swing his arm up and down and up and down as they waited for the elevator. But he didn't stop her.

"For every time you swing my arm I will add ten miles over the speed limit on the highway."

That stopped her. House gave an evil little chuckle.

* * *

"Whoa!"

Nick gave an embarrassed laugh as Grissom and Sara caught him by the arms and helped him to his feet again. He had knocked into his bedside table and almost fell over.

"I'm not used to the crutches yet."

Sara smiled and eased his duffel bag from his shoulder, carrying it herself.

"Not if you've been sitting on your ass twenty-four, seven."

They walked slowly along and kept pace with Nick, who wasn't kidding about his inexperience and caught him one or two times when the crutches slipped against the cold, linoleum floor.

Grissom stopped dead, Nick didn't notice still babbling on about how he was going to manage crutches in the plane ride back but fell silent when he noticed Sara staring at Grissom with morbid fascination and Grissom staring with an unfathomable expression at the people waiting by the elevators as well.

After a tense moment, Grissom spoke.

"Hello Kate."

"Hello Gil."

* * *

A/N Dun dun dun! Please review! 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Gosh such lovely reviews! I must use the words lovely and review every time I write an author's note, but psh. psssh. I'm so hyped, I met Neil Gaiman on a book tour, mucho coolioso and excitamundo! But I've got tests and presentations in the bucketfuls this week, bleh! I'll try to update frequently, and I appreciate your feedback as always!

Oh and the fic is winding down to a close soon. A couple more chaps and I think that will be it...

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 8**

House looked from Kate to 'Gil', apparently, Tex and the cute brunette, and back to Gil again. Kate seemed to be the only one who seemed completely undisturbed by the scene playing out before them.

Tex, as he had so named the CSI with the broken leg and sniffles, looked confused but smart enough to shut up about it. The brunette seemed to have an idea of the magnitude of the situation and was horrified. Gil…looked as if he wanted to run away very badly but was good at looking like nothing was wrong. Very good, very experienced. But House cocked his head and he could see right through it. He'd been there, they had something in common other than blue eyes.

Kate looked unfazed but her grip on his hand had gone slack. Her smile resembling the ones she would plaster on her face when she was first at the hospital. House wasn't too sure what was going on but he knew she deserved better than to have to smile that bitter smile again.

"Do you know these people, honey?"

If she needed the escape route, the option was there.

The brunette registered surprise, he wondered why. Maybe she'd seen him before. Gil looked surprised too but a different sort House was also too familiar with.

He felt Kate squeeze his hand again.

"Oh, an old acquaintance. I thought you were in Nevada Gil."

"I am. Leaving next morning."

"I hope you have a nice flight. Let's go Greg, the elevator's here."

"You go right ahead, we'll probably take up all the space. We'll catch the next one."

The brunette quickly offered and Tex gave a bashful smile, trying to cover up all the discomfort from this little exchange.

House looked long and hard at Gil Grissom as he limped into the elevator, Kate clutching onto his hand more desperately as her face became more calm. But of the artificial sort. He felt like he needed to protect her from him, and let his diamond blue eyes grow cold as ice. A protective arm over her shoulders and holding her closer to him.

And there was a crestfallen glaze to a pair of blue eyes he did not own.

When the elevator doors closed Kate slumped into his arms under the strain before he could even ask her what had just happened.

* * *

"Griss who was that?"

Sara would have stomped her foot down on Nick's broken leg if it wouldn't have been obvious. Why, oh why did he not know when to keep his mouth shut? Or to stop dancing on tabletops for that matter?

Grissom was numb as he watched the elevator lights blink.

"Ex-girlfriend."

Sara and Nick were both shocked silent. Grissom never, _never_ talked about stuff like that. Never, never, never. In fact he gave the impression that there wasn't even stuff to never talk about.

And Sara had felt her heart plunge into an icy bucket of water.

* * *

"Who is Gil Grissom?"

Kate was still shaken but she seemed to be faring better. She gave a bitter little laugh that was half-hearted but it sounded as if all wounds had already scarred.

"Haven't you ever had your heart broken?"

House pulled her closer to him in the dark and wondered if the man he had seen before had ever done the same. He was beginning to understand, she had her Gil, and he his Stacy.

* * *

When House woke up the next morning it was to find himself alone with a note on a post-it she stuck to his chest. Ha, ha, what a _hilarious_ sense of humour. Peeling it off with a wince he rubbed sleep from his eyes and tried to be able to make sense of something early in the morning. Not his forte.

"Go to work today. You're making the other doctors suspicious. Pick up milk. Don't damn well speed or will hurt you. Badly."

With a grunt House rolled out of bed and went hunting for his jeans.

* * *

"You mean I have to go on the plane alone?"

"Oh come on Nick, you're all grown up."

"Sara…I have motion sickness."

"Then throw up in the airsick bag."

"What'll I tell the team back home?"

"I dunno, make something up. Just don't let them in on Grissom acting up weird. I'll make sure he comes home without hurting himself."

"Sara, I have motion sickness. You're hurting _me_."

"Take some gravol."

In all truthfulness, Sara was terrified of the events that were unfolding and couldn't tear herself away. She knew she was going to get hurt somehow, but she wanted to feel something. Back in Vegas she made sure she was numb, pushed it beneath her, ignored it, but that had wreaked havoc on her psyche. She was going to see this out to the dirty last.

And she couldn't leave Grissom in his peculiar state, announcing with glazed eyes that he was going to stay longer.

But what was bothering and confusing her most now was that Grissom wasn't in his hotel room and he had just vanished without a word.

* * *

Grissom didn't have a speech prepared. No opening line, nothing to say, nothing. He couldn't think of anything, and he couldn't bring himself to think of anything. He knew that going over was a bad, _bad_ idea but he had to see her again.

Something had to happen. Whether they fought, whether she turned him away, no matter how it ended, it had to end. He'd been left on the most dreadful cliffhanger for so long and he wanted to know that despite how things turned out, he tried. And that would sufficiently put an end to it all.

He parked by the road and didn't think as he got out of his car and walked up to the front door. What would he say? He didn't want to think about it. What would she say? He didn't want to think about it.

"Kate? Kate are you home?"

Someone answered the door with the hardest gaze of vibrant blue he had ever seen.

"Can I help you?"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N I'm so sorry for the tardyness of this update! My computer's been so beepy lately and I haven't been able to get on fanfiction for some time now. Anyways, as always your reviews just make me can't help but grin and I feel all warm and fuzzy inside because of it. Thanks! Please continue with your feedback!

Okay, the big angsty past between Kate and Grissomcomes out here! Yay!

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 9**

If anything Grissom hadn't expected Greg House to answer the door and an odd feeling of resignation came over him. So this is what is had come to.

"You're her boyfriend?"

"Were you?"

House closed the door on him when he was sure there would be no reply and Grissom walked back to his car. Still numb.

"Damnit."

* * *

"Your ex popped by today."

House was sitting on the couch watching TV when he heard Kate walk in. He didn't turn to look at her and was trying to make it a passing comment, but Kate could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"My, my, is that jealousy I do detect?"

"To be quite frank, yes."

"I'm flattered."

"But it's not just that."

He hadn't expected for that to come out, or so easily, but now that it did he stared at her intensely. What are you going to say Kate? What's the answer? He continued.

"What'd he do to you? It's because of him isn't it? He did something."

She gave him a light kiss on the cheek as she sat down on the couch beside him. She grimaced at the lack of taste it required to turn your TV onto _that_ particular program.

"Isn't that what people do?"

"He shouldn't have done…whatever it was. No one deserves to, you know, have life suck for them. For so long."

"You're getting protective."

House averted his gaze, he couldn't look into those green eyes. He knew he had to do this. He had to say this, and try and make things the way they should be. Goodness knows he'd fucked up on this part too many times before, he should have learned his lesson by now. But it was still hard.

"Kate, I…"

He cupped a hand to the side of her face and forced himself to look into her eyes.

"I lo—"

She put her hand over his mouth and shook her head slowly.

"You owe that to the living. Not the dead."

* * *

Oh the old coffee guise. What memories arose from that, and she looked at them all with affection that is only born out of a lot of time and world weariness.

Kate had pulled her hat down to the tips of her ears and sat stirring her coffee as she sat by the window-side table in the café. She saw him before he saw her, shuffling up to the entrance door.

When he spotted her he sat down at the table and they waited in silence for his own cup of coffee. They must have sat in silence for five minutes, sipping, him determinedly looking out the window, her staring uninhibitedly at him.

"It's been awhile hasn't it Gil?"

"Yes it has…Kate."

"I hate to do this to you."

He looked up at her now, blue eyes piercing through her with their blend of hurt and indignance.

"Do what?"

Kate took something out from the inner pocket of her jacket. It was a wrinkled piece of paper she had re-folded smoothly in half. She slid it across the table and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze when it came into contact.

Grissom unfolded the piece of paper and perched his glasses upon his nose. He only read the first line and then unhooked the glasses from his face and buried it in his hand.

"Oh my god Kate…"

His voice was shaky and his exhale of breath trembled with the strain of trying not to cry. He didn't feel safe enough to show his eyes until another five minutes afterwards.

"You're very thin. And pale."

He laughed through the thickness of his voice, his eyes red. There was an unspoken agreement to not mention the letter for now at least.

"Is it cancer?"

"Yes, I have a tumor…in my brain."

"Oh god Kate."

He covered his mouth with his hand and shook a few times. His voice was shaky and high but he managed despite.

"Does—does it hurt?"

"Just the regular aches and pains, I'm very lucky."

Grissom gently cradled her head in his trembling hands and pressed his face against hers. He was continuing to shake under the exertion of keeping his sobs inside.

* * *

Cameron let out a little sigh as she came back with all the test results and whatnots from the checkups and regular monitoring. This was news that they rarely gave out, and of the oddest nature.

"Miss Hathaway, we've been calculating the growth rate of your tumor and we have reason to believe it has stabilized. If your tumor continues to grow at this rate, and we assume it will…"

Cameron sighed and had to pause for a moment. This was hard. There were no sarcastic or snarky comments from Kate, who just sat patiently.

"…you will die this Thursday."

"Thank you."

Kate stood up and began to put on her jacket and gather her things. Cameron wanted to hate her so badly, she wanted to be able to pin up all the crap she had felt on her. But she couldn't help but like her at the same time. Look up to her, almost.

Kate turned and smiled at Cameron.

"You know I'm rooting for you. I'm wearing down his jagged edges, he'll be ready soon. And for letting me have that time…thanks."

And Kate left without a backwards glance or another word.

* * *

House had been watching Cameron and Kate talk through the Venetian blinds of his office. Deep down, in some subconscious part of his mind he knew what the next turn of events would be. He knew how things would have to turn out, how he would have to make them turn out.

He wished the month had been longer. And yet, he was glad it was coming to an end.

"Hey Kate, do you want me to drop you off?"

"That's fine, I'm not heading back home yet."

That surprised him. He saw Kate walk down to where the elevators were, and saw another blue-eyed man escort her from there.

* * *

A/N Okay, warning now, this fic will end next chap. If y'all beg prettily enough for an epilogue, I have one in mind. But only if I get 10 reviews asking for one.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N The End

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 10**

"I heard you got a date. But Cameron won't say."

House looked at her from across the table. He didn't want to touch her.

"Thursday."

He felt some of his hatred melting away again and his voice grew rough with concealed emotion.

"That's soon."

Kate looked at him with her curious green eyes.

"He broke my heart by hiding from me."

House looked up. Kate looked reminiscent. The memories must have been painful at one point, but she stared off into space and smiled at them with affection now.

"He's good at that you know. He was always a little introverted, easy to hurt. But I like to think I made him happy. It was years, god, years ago. He received a letter that had my death written all over it. Someone wanted to get at him. Someone who knew they could do it through me."

Her past was so dark…

"So he cut himself off from me in the coldest manner possible. I thought he was being a coward, that he betrayed me by tossing me away so easily at just the first sniff of danger. You see, I had received a letter as well. I thought he knew. That even in full knowledge of that, he dumped me. If I had known he was trying to protect me, I would have told him to can the heroism. That I was strong and we could have made it through. But he always thought of me first, and that was our downfall."

She paused for a moment.

"They caught the guy sending the letters. It was just some crazy who couldn't do anything, with a grudge against Gil because he had headed the case that put him behind bars. And you know…I had to give Gil the letter I had…I had to tell him there might have been a future."

She cradled her head in her hand, elbow propped up on the table. House folded his hands under his chin and wondered why it looked like, no he knew, she felt no pain about this.

"Do you think you did the right thing?"

"I'm helping him know there will _be_ a future."

House could see where this was getting at. Kate knew that he knew. There were no misunderstandings or presumptions here. Nothing pretentious, nothing to trust or to distrust. They knew each other on something far deeper than a primal level.

He had pushed it into his subconscious, but he had to let it surface now. Kate's eyes twinkled as she looked at him.

"You know you owe it to her, to say that."

* * *

Kate sat on the bed next to Grissom. They were in his hotel room, and he had a cheap one and the bed was more comfortable than the chairs shacked up in the corner.

"Why do you always make things harder for yourself, Gil?"

Grissom smiled at that, staring at his hand in hers. He didn't reply.

"It's over now. You don't owe me anything. No bad dreams, no sleepless nights, no nostalgic memories, no regret, nothing."

He remained silent.

"Do you understand Gil? You didn't fail me by what you did. All the loose ends are tied up. Stop beating yourself up over it. Gosh…if I had known sooner just exactly what went on in your head…don't make that mistake again, a person needs to know, you're too good at hiding—"

"If you had known sooner, you would have done this sooner?"

Kate fell silent this time.

"No."

She couldn't look into his blue eyes.

"No, because I hated you for it. Being bitter is sometimes being petty. I would have wanted to hurt you."

Kate smiled again and squeezed his hand.

"Don't drive her to it too. She's very beautiful. You take care of her. You let her take care of you."

Kate gave him a last kiss to seal her forgiveness and let him hold her one last time. Only when he got over her would he be able to give himself away. Whoever said some things are accomplished better in death, than life, was right.

* * *

So that's what it was? One last mission to make sure the people who were still going to stick around would be alright? To reconcile, to be a burning beacon showing the path to a better life? A bunch of sap?

Or maybe it was like his motorcycle. He had a sneaking suspicion that from the very start she knew something he hadn't. That being bitter was a waste of time, it was allowing yourself to wallow in self-pity and was destructive all around. Maybe she was just sharing with him, and Gil, a little sunshine she had found, a little freedom she wanted the other broken losers to enjoy.

She had given her ex an end. And House was trying to figure out what she had given him and realized it was need. He now let himself need things. He needed a friend. He needed to touch someone. He needed to hear some sweet nothing. He needed affection. He needed someone to love him. He allowed himself to need things from the world, instead of seeing himself as a burden.

And once it was all over, he'd let himself go and need. But while it was still drawing to a close, he didn't want the very thing that had made things so definite to fade away into the world of indefinite.

The plan for Vegas left the night before and she promised to spend all of Thursday with him.

She hugged herself to him as they zoomed down the road but no complaints arose from her now. He sped disgustingly high over the speed limit and drove recklessly, wanting to give her one last, thrilling ride.

He took her to the favored park and they sat underneath the tree where she had once read his palm. There were other people, but it didn't matter.

House had gone over this with her, but now that things were set in motion, it was hard to keep up. It was almost time, he had worked tirelessly to try and calculate it to the very last minute of time she had…

"Greg?"

"What is it?"

"It hurts."

She clung to him, her hand bunching up the front of his t-shirt and her body trembled against his. He hurriedly fumbled the materials out of his bag. A syringe. Pharmaceutical morphine.

"No."

"Kate, this will make it painless and peaceful…"

"No, no pain is a part of…everything."

Her breath kept hitching in her throat.

"I…want to experience…this…too…pain is life too…life…"

Her body began to shake even harder and she buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. She couldn't speak anymore.

Everything was going to start now. He knew that he owed it to her, to say it. That now, he was free, that he may have been broken and may still be, but was piecing it together. That he owed love to someone alive, someone he owed it to long before Kate came along.

But he held the dying woman tightly in his arms as she shook and clung to him, both desperately trying to keep from drowning in life's pity party.

And then she broke free.

**END**

* * *

A/N I thank all of my reviewers and anyone who read this fic and enjoyed it. You guys make my day and encourage me to write. I hope I stuck to House's character as closely as possible, and I hope you all don't mind the ending. I am planning on having an epilogue if ten people review and ask for it.

And of course, another fic just might be on its way...(smiles) THANK YOU! LOVE!


	11. EPILOGUE

A/N Yeah, okay, dipshit the ten reviews. I was looking over the fic and it just had to be written.

**

* * *

**

**Epilogue**

"Okay, I'm a wimp. I brought flowers."

House grimaced a little as he settled himself onto the grass beside the grave. He had purposely come an hour after the services so he wouldn't run into anyone. Though, last he looked not many had come to begin with.

"But it isn't as bad as it sounds. There was a hobo selling roses while I was driving on the way here. And yes, I did wear a helmet…but I went a couple tens over the speed limit. Ha, to you.

"Things have been alright without you. You know, that girl on that soap…what was her name, the Spanish one, anyway, she ended up with the guy you said she would. So yeah, I owe you a twenty. Cuddy didn't actually follow through with giving me a month's worth of clinic duty and she kindly looked the other way when I brought a fresh bottle to the office…oh that's right."

He unzipped his backpack and brought out another bottle of Jack Daniels, the stuff they used to drink after hours. He swigged a little himself and then sprinkled a few drops on the gravestone.

"It's weird, talking to a big rock, albeit one with pretty carvings, but a rock all the same. You should be somewhere better by now, because it would be fucking pathetic if you could actually hear me and were down here and blah, blah, shit. So let's just say this is for me, another excuse to get drunk.

"I _did_ tell it to her, you know, you can stop worrying. I'm not too sure how things will turn out but she didn't say 'No' or 'Fuck off' outright, so I guess that's a good sign. Yeah…I owed it to her…you were right. You're always right, I'm glad you're dead if only for that."

He thought for a moment and drank some more whiskey.

"And you didn't deserve to suffer. That too.

"You know, if things were different, I probably would have wanted to marry you. Oh sure, we would have driven each other crazy but…"

He stared long and hard at the gravestone for an intense moment before deciding it was safe to start talking again. His eyes were very red.

"…shut up. This is my last chance to say anything, let me be maudlin. Just…just for a bit…"

He had to stop again.

"You were quite a catch, okay? I'll admit it now, coward I am, I wait until you're dead, but I'll say it now. No one can hear me, right? Just this stupid rock with your name on it, the tree, the grass, your body…okay, that's creepy. Anyways, you were beautiful. Shit yes, even with your hair looking as if it had molted right out of your head, you were still something.

"I'm going to forget you now. I'm not going to miss you and I'm not going to think about you. Please, don't come to me in my dreams. I don't want to see you. I'm going to erase you, and I know you'll understand. Once I walk away from here, you won't exist, okay? You don't need me thinking about you."

He took one last swig of the Jack Daniels and held up the bottle to the sunlight, squinting as he looked at it from the angle.

"I should stop drinking this. I need to get back to the hospital, I wouldn't want to get ticketed. They might take my bike away. I'll let you keep this, shit, it doesn't matter to me, I've got one in my desk and I'm a doctor. I make a shit-load more than I need, I can always get another."

House got up and placed the bottle of Jack Daniels over the grave, open so that its familiar contents spilled out and soaked into the grass. He then left behind three roses, a tape he had recorded some of his piano music on, and a twenty dollar bill. He hefted himself up with some difficulty and looked at the grave a moment longer before walking towards his motorcycle.

"I'll obey the speed limits just for today. _Just_ today, mind you."


End file.
